Til Death Do Us Part, Probably
by RainbowFizzyPops
Summary: /Number twenty, across. Eight letters. "What eventually happens with two people in love?" There are two answers that could fit here. Which one is right?/ Puzzleshipping. One shot.


Honestly, I lost all motivation with this one-shot towards the end. So, if it sucks, that's why. I'm sorry.

* * *

_Number 20, across: "What eventually happens with two people in love?"_

Yami let a hard breath out of his nose, looking away from the crossword puzzle sitting idle in his lap to the cityscape outside the window. Life out here was never still, just like his turmoil thoughts. A winter's midnight sky was invaded by lights and punctured by the tops of tall buildings. You couldn't see the stars, though Yami knew they were out there. Thousands of little light pinpricks, waiting to be admired. Down below, cars pumped their smelly exhaust into the air. The sound of brakes and horns drifted up through his apartment window, even though it was shut.

But even with all that unsightliness, the city was stunning. Buildings with rows and rows of neat, aligned windows. The shiny metal exterior of cars, reflecting people walking by – lights bending to dance around even the slightest dent. There was also a bridge perched right over the vast lake, who's water moved and breathed, giving life to the scenery. A swirling, rippling black sheet that was too big to freeze in the winter months.

Yami hated how much he loved it in this place. Anyone else who had dealt with the problems he had would've left, surely – turned away and never looked back. But he, instead, took solitude in the noise. It was perfect for blocking out thoughts, but yet it never ceased to stir up old memories as well. Both good and bad. A catch 22. Sighing, he looked back at his book, pen tapping against the edge. He figured the answer was supposed to be something nicer than what had first popped in his mind. Yes, it was definitely the nicer word. One that made him balk. To him, there was another eight-letter word that explained what happens with two lovebirds much more realistically.

Or maybe he was still just as bitter as he was four months ago.

Before he realized it, his eyes strayed away from his project again, settling on a stack of papers, lists, and folders lying on the coffee table in front of him. The sharp corner of what he knew to be a photograph poked out at him; the rest of it covered by the papers. He didn't dare touch it. He had just removed it from his line of vision only an hour ago, after staring blankly at it for what seemed like eons. He knew what was waiting for him if he picked it up.

Ivory skin. Ebony, spiky hair, tipped with the crimson of all crimsons. Golden bangs, one hanging down, cutely, to a small nose. Two large amethyst irises, staring back at him. There was such happiness when that photo was taken, but now Yami could only feel a dull roar of pain when he looked at it. A wound that healed, but scars remain. Like how some old people can feel the rain in their joints before clouds even form in the sky.

Yeah. He was definitely still bitter.

He looked away from the insulting photo abruptly; the urge to throw it into the fire was growing stronger. He clicked his pen a couple times, looking down to the book in his lap once more. Swallowing his feelings and holding them down with an iron fist, he set the pen tip to the paper and wrote, trying to keep his hand steady, _"Marriage."_

That was definitely the answer they wanted him to put, even if he didn't agree with it. But he didn't get angry. He didn't cry. He took a deep breath, and tried not to stare at the word for too long. Maybe if he locked his feelings up, if he didn't show them, they would go away.

Before he could read the next clue, a soft knock came from the door, almost timid sounding. Yami stood up, gave a brief stretch, and dropped his crossword puzzle onto the table before walking to the door. When he opened it, he wasn't very surprised to see who was on the other side, though he still went lockjaw. He gripped the door handle, knuckles turning white. He wasn't surprised because things like this always happened to him; his past always felt obligated to haunt him.

He tore his eyes from the visitor's, a feat he would've thought impossible only a short time ago.  
"What are you doing here?" He asked, then he winced at the harshness in his tone. _Be nice_.

"Could I come in?" The other asked, noticing his tone, but mercifully ignoring it. Yami thought for a quick moment, then gave a stiff nod and stepped aside, letting the smaller slip past him. Yami closed his eyes and held his breath, trying to ignore the familiar feel of the visitor's body next to his. He stood still, his face impassive. When it came to hiding feelings when needed, Yami certainly was a champ. Maybe that had been one of the problems.

"What do you need, Yugi?" He asked, shutting the door gently, proud at himself for not stumbling over the name.

Yugi pushed his bangs from his face and shot Yami an apologetic glance. For what? Interrupting Yami's important crossword time? Yami watched as the one bang fell back to the middle of Yugi's face. He remembered how they used to lie in bed, facing each other. How he would wind that astray bang around his fingers, then push it back so he could see Yugi's whole face clearly.

_Stop it._ Yami ground his teeth together, tearing away from the memory. Yugi, on the other hand, didn't notice this whole internal struggle going on within Yami. He clenched the strap of his bag that was slung over his shoulder and said, "I'm sorry for coming so late. I just..." He gave an almost frustrated sigh. "Why haven't you signed the divorce papers yet?"

"It's on my To Do list…" Yami replied stiffly, folding his arms. In actuality, there were a few reasons. One was that he wasn't really ready to admit everything was over. Not ready for it all to feel so…final. Another reason was that he'd forgotten where the papers were after tossing them carelessly somewhere in the vicinity – and, right now, he honestly couldn't care less.

Yugi must have known this, however, because he opened the bag and pulled out some papers that looked very familiar to Yami.  
"Luckily, I have a copy. In case something like this happened. " He offered them over. "Sign them now, then."

Yami didn't take them. The only movement he gave was the crossing of his arms. He stared at the papers as if Yugi had just offered him an alien baby. He was afraid. He couldn't believe that it was all done. That there was a chance all of it might've been a lie.

Finally, he looked away from the papers and muttered, "…We were working on it, you know."

"And we failed." Yugi responded with a hint of exasperation, like a mother who has heard her child's excuses too many times before.

"That's not my fault."

"Did you hear me say it was?" Yugi frowned, trying to get the conversation back on track. "It takes two to build a relationship—"

"And it only takes one to destroy it, right?" Yami snapped.

"We've already discussed all of this. I don't know what else you want me to say." Yugi retorted, a little annoyed. "What do you think is going to happen?" He placed a hand on his hip. "That we're going to yell at each other and then make up? That I'm going to realize that I love you and will want to try again? That you're going to logic me into coming back?" He took off his coat and threw it over the back of the armchair. "Okay. Fine, Yami." He said, irritated, dropping his bag on the seat of the same armchair. He tossed the divorce papers onto the coffee table, letting them fall on it with a slap, before crossing his arms to mirror Yami. "We'll do this again. Let's have a go. I will answer whatever questions you desire, but then you have to sign the damn papers."

It was silent for a long time. This was an unexpected turn. Yami had finally wore him down to this state. He regarded Yugi with a sharp look.  
"Fine." He muttered before tilting his chin up a bit, almost in a challenging manner. "Did you ever love me?"

This clearly was not what Yugi had expected. His arms slipped from their position and hung limply at his sides.  
"How can you even ask me that?" Yugi questioned, looking dismay. "Why would I do all I did for someone I didn't love?"

"Well, I...I'm just not sure you did anymore." Yami averted his eyes from the other, slightly abashed. "The first time you ever slept with me was because you were drunk."

"I was drunk because Jou took me drinking - because I was emotional." He flushed a bit. "My _emotions_ lead to the sex, not the alcohol. I was aware of what I was doing then – I wasn't completely shit-faced."

"I can't believe that!" Yami pressed on. "Because, even after then, you never let it go past the sex. I tried to initiate deeper things than that, but you refused. You wouldn't even go to get coffee with me. We would've started dating right then and there if it was because of your 'emotions.'"

"I hadn't agreed to it because I knew I was falling for you, and I didn't want to."

"But that never changed." Yami argued. "You broke off our vacation because I had the audacity to buy you a ring!"

"I got cold feet." Yugi looked away, worrying his lip. "I'm not proud of it."

"And then you almost called off our wedding. Tell me the truth, it was because you couldn't stand the idea of living the rest of your life—"

"No! Don't bring that up!" Yugi called over top of him.

"—with me, because even then you weren't sure if you loved me, right? _Right?!"_ Yami demanded, yelling by the end of the sentence. He threw his hands in the air and then let them fall back down against his thighs with a loud slap, but he didn't feel the sting. His anger was starting to get the best of him. "God, I probably would have had to been _dying_ for you to be able to marry me without any hesitation! Because then you'd feel _sorry_ for me, and you wouldn't want me to be alone! Plus, if I were dying, you wouldn't be stuck with me for long, right?!"

"That's not fair!" Yugi cried, stomping. "You're acting like a child!"

"'Says the man who still uses the term, 'That's not fair' and stamps his foot. But you do have a point, Yugi. _It's not fair!_" Yami shook his head roughly. "It's not fair that I did everything I could for you! It's not fair that every time I thought I broke through, I was shut out again! It's not fair that I loved you so much – and you kept wavering!" Yami was aware of how loud he was being, but he couldn't care less. Let the neighbors call the cops. Tears were at the edges of his eyes, and he wasn't sure if they were from his frustration or pain. Maybe both. "IT'S NOT FAIR THAT I HAD TO CONSTANTLY WAIT FOR YOU!" He accused, pointing his finger at the other.

"Stop it!" Yugi yelled over him, stepping forward, his face white.

"Just tell me the truth, then!" Yami demanded, stepping forward as well.

"About what?"

_"DID YOU EVER LOVE ME?!"_

"_I DON'T KNOW!"_

Silence rang through the space, and Yugi brought his hands over his mouth, trembling. He looked shocked, like he couldn't believe that he'd said what he did. Tears slowly slid down his round cheeks, and he shook his head. "Wait, no…Yami, I mean..."

Yami's fists gripped for a second as a wave of hurt washed over him, and then they loosened. He felt his whole body suddenly relax. He didn't know what to say in reply, really. Just a second ago he had been dominating, but now…

"Yami…_Yami_…" Yugi dropped his hands and hung his head, letting the tears collect and fall off the point of his nose. "I did care for you… I really did. Please believe me. I just…"

Yami took a deep breath. Well, he'd always suspected it, of course – suspected that Yugi _did_ care, but was afraid and unsure, preventing him from being able to commit. But to have it actually in the open between them and confirmed was…well...

"…Thank you for telling me." Yami finally managed, quiet. His throat felt raw. Was it from the yelling, or was he about to cry? He did feel like he was going to cry, but no tears would come. Yugi made a strange, almost strangled noise, and he shook his head.

"Yami, I cared. I really, _really_—" He was cut off by a sob. He looked up, miserable. "Please…b-believe me…"

_Shit._ Yami backed up until his rear hit the wall. He leaned against it, feeling somewhat tired. He watched Yugi shake and try to take deep breaths. He had been more affected by the break up then Yami thought. He was just as heartbroken over it as Yami was. He was a fool to think Yugi, of all people, walked out of the relationship scot-free. He didn't mean to make Yugi cry. That wasn't what he wanted.

"I believe you." Yami said softly. And he did.

"I don't know why that exploded from me…" Yugi wiped his face with his sleeve. "I _did_ care. I did love you." He shook his head. "Just not in a way that would have worked. And that's my fault. My burden." He took a deep breath, calming down.

"I spent the past few months wondering how everything changed." Yami admitted. "I tried to remember what I did to make it end. I tried to figure out what I had to change, what I could do if I could go back and fix things. But…it wasn't me. I mean, it was, but not all of it."

"No. Not all of it." Yugi agreed quietly.

"I mean, there's nothing more...I can do." Yami shrugged. "I gave it my best. It wasn't good enough." Yugi made another choked noise, and Yami realized he was crying again. "Don't cry, Yugi." He pleaded. "I'm sorry for being such an ass. I'm not mad anymore. I won't yell at you again. I won't blame you."

"It's not that." Yugi looked at his ex through his tears. "I'm just…I'm a mess. I trust people too easily. I cry too much. I don't have any family. I'm a coward. I was afraid of falling in love and getting hurt. Afraid of things that were out of my control. I selfishly pushed you away from me to protect myself."

"You talk as if you're the only messed up one." Yami said, trying not to smile. "Maybe we're both just beautifully tragic."

Yugi let out a sudden, watery chortle.  
"Are you becoming a poet?"

"What?"

"'_Beautifully tragic…'_" Yugi quoted in a mystical tone, trying not to laugh. "God, that's perfect."

"Yeah, yeah. Can it, you ham." Yami riposted, turning red. The smile he had been holding back broke through.

"We didn't have to be so—" Yugi snorted, trying to hold in his amusement "—'beautifully tragic,' though. If I had trusted in you more, not let the insecure part of me win so much, maybe everything wouldn't be like it is now. I want to stop it all, but I can't. I loved you, but I couldn't be with you. I can't be with anyone. I need to work on myself first. But I don't want to be alone. I'm afraid if I don't fix myself, I'll just repeat the same scenario over and over again until nothing of me is left. I'm sorry, Yami." He took a shuddering breath. "I still love you, but it won't work."

Yami pushed off of the wall and walked over to Yugi. He placed his hand on the smaller's head briefly, an acceptance to his words.

"I understand. I still love you, too. And that's what's so painful. Love doesn't leave. Not all at once, like we want. It creeps back to me in some way or another; makes me remember, makes me think that it can still go a different way. It's hard because I have to remind myself of the reasons why it can't." Yami gave a little smile. Then he leaned down, took the pen from next to his crossword, and signed the papers where he needed. When finished, he set the pen down and straightened up. He thought that he would have felt angry or even desolate once he signed…but instead, he felt a sense of ease. He still wished things were different, of course. He loved Yugi, but now it was like he was a few steps closer to accepting everything for what it was. A few steps closer to moving on. It was a sense of peace.

"What were your favorite parts?" Yugi suddenly asked. Yami didn't even have to pause to think of an answer.

"I liked how I'd fall asleep with your back turned to me, but when I woke up in the middle of the night, you would be clinging to me like you were afraid I'd leave. I liked when I would come home and you'd meet me in the hallway. I liked it when the toilet broke, and we went to a bookstore to buy a 'For Dummies' book instead of calling a professional. I liked how we called each other 'dummy' for the whole day after." He grinned. "I liked seeing you stand up to Kaiba at Christmas when he yelled at Jou. I liked the way you would tuck your bangs behind your ear before answering a question. I liked that freckle underneath your left shoulder blade—"

"I have a freckle?" Yugi asked, his hand automatically trying to reach behind his back. "You didn't tell me?"

"It felt as if it were my own little secret, and I liked that as well." Yami chuckled, then he became somber. "I liked how you always didn't believe you were strong…but you were. You still are." He blinked at Yugi. "And I still like it."

It was quiet. Then, "That sounded like a confession."

"It might be, in another life." Yami shrugged, looking away. "What about you?"

"What I liked?" Yugi asked. Yami nodded. "Well…there's a lot. But the first thing that pops out in my mind is when Anzu sent us to that dance class for the wedding. It's weird. I keep telling myself, 'He's never going to hold me like that again.'" He attempted to smile, but it wavered. His eyes started to shine again. "I'm…I'm going to miss touching you."

Yami swallowed hard. He had thought that, too.  
"I'm going to miss that, too."

"I feel bad about the way it ended, though." Yugi sighed. "It was…pretty ugly." He rocked back on his heels, then lurched forward, pressing his lips against Yami's cheek. Yami jerked back a bit, surprised, and looked over to him. Before he could tell himself not to, Yami drew in closer, lips parting. And Yugi met him halfway. Their lips touched once. Softly. Carefully. Like a new couple's first kiss. Testing. Then, when they touched lips a second time, it was like two lovers. Assured. Yugi caught Yami's face in his hands, and Yami wrapped his arms around Yugi's waist. The pressed together, paused, tasted, and moved again.

_This is wrong,_ Yami's rationality said.  
_Shut up,_ His emotions cried.

Yugi was tugging on his neck, pulling Yami with him over to the couch. Mouths still connected as they moved down, Yami holding himself above Yugi, his knee between his thighs. His tongue slipped over Yugi's bottom lip, slowly, and Yugi's fingers gripped in his hair. He moved his hand under the hem of Yugi's shirt, fingers kneading the flesh there before traveling up to his ribcage. Yugi parted their mouths and took in a quivering breath. He moved his hands from Yami's hair, down to his shoulders. He pulled Yami close so they were flush against each other in a hug. His arms squeezed, his lips danced on Yami's earlobe.

"Hold me." He murmured, almost a plea. Yami slipped both of his hands up Yugi's shirt, and then around to his back, embracing the smaller to him. His cheek brushed against Yugi's. He lowered his head, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Yugi's neck. He inhaled deeply, remembering the scent all to well. It was never enough. He held him tighter still, pressing his lips against Yugi's skin. He could feel the life in Yugi. The blood pounding through his veins.

He wanted to cherish this. The last time he would be able to hold Yugi like this. In the future, it won't be the same. He wouldn't be able to breathe in his scent like this anymore. It was hard, knowing that they couldn't be together, yet loving each other all the same. Not really there, yet not completely gone. Maybe that meant that they would never move on completely. That they would always yearn for the other in a way that couldn't be explained – or understood even if it was. A spark that would always connect them. Whether it was good or bad, only the future would tell.

But, for now, Yami was content just like this. Just being able to have Yugi pressed against him again before he'd have to let go. He turned his head and kissed Yugi's neck; his fingers reaching up and touching the skin covering Yugi's shoulders. God, how he wished this wouldn't end. That he'd never have to say goodbye again. That they could just live here on the couch, surrounding each other in warmth, holding, kissing, and touching.

"Please…"

Whatever Yugi was saying "please" for, it was lost to Yami. Yugi needed to clarify what he meant. All of Yami's energy was devoted to controlling himself from taking Yugi right then and there. Was he trying to tell him to stop? Tell him that the embrace was over now and they had to break apart? If he was, Yami would, no matter how much it ached to do so. But…if Yugi was urging him to continue…then, by all means, and with all of his being, he would gladly give the other what was requested.

When Yugi squirmed under him, and he felt a hardness press against his leg, Yami got his answer loud and clear. Yugi's hands moved from Yami's neck to the bottom of his shirt, trying to pull it off. Yami released his hold on Yugi and raised himself up, allowing the shirt to be pulled up over his head and then tossed away to the floor. Yugi's hands contacted his chest, and Yami flinched.

Yugi immediately pulled his hands away.  
"What's wrong?" He asked, looking alarmed.

"Cold." Yami muttered. "Why are your hands always so cold?"

Yugi's previously alert face split into a smile.  
"Maybe I'm part of the undead."

"God, I hope not. That would make me highly necrophilic."

"Wait. Would you rather be a grave robber or a crib robber?"

"Why in God's name would you ask me that right now?"

"Just wondering." Yugi shrugged. "We'll get back to that later, then."

"Please don't. I feel like it's a trap."

"We should Google search it and see what other people say."

"Are you trying to distract me on purpose?"

"No. Sorry." Yugi laughed. "Do you want me to keep my corpse hands to myself?"

"No." Yami caught Yugi's hands in his own and pressed them to his chest, right over where his heart was pounding. "Touch me more, Yugi."

"Where do you want me to touch?" Yugi asked, his fingers trailing lightly along the planes of his body.

Yami took in a sharp breath, arms threatening to give out from under him.  
"_Everywhere." _He moaned. He saw the other shudder at his tone, and he pulled Yugi closer to kiss him.

As Yugi's fingers toyed with the edge of his pants, Yami's fingers slipped back up Yugi's shirt. A moan, soft as a sigh, passed between Yugi's lips, and he arched his back. Yami licked Yugi's chin, then pulled back far enough to see his face. Carefully, he winded Yugi's bangs around his fingers, pushing them back. He gazed down at him, watching Yugi's moist lips part with ragged breaths, his cheeks tint red, and the desire burn back at him through those bright eyes. He didn't want to forget anything about Yugi. Not one thing. Like how sensitive his skin was, or how his fingers were soft and slender, or how he sounded when he whined or looked when he was angry. He especially would not forget that one freckle underneath Yugi's left shoulder blade.

And then, once he had seen his fill, he leaned down and kissed Yugi again, deep and slow. His last completely coherent thought was, _number 20, across. Eight letters. "What eventually happens with two people in love?"_

Divorces.


End file.
